


Leon The Long Suffering-Tales of an Iron Kettle

by LivingInATimeOf_Myths



Series: Sir Leon the Long Suffering [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Caring Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Everyone Loves Merlin (Merlin), M/M, Merlin is So Done (Merlin), Mild Hurt/Comfort, Poor Leon, Silly, Sir Leon the Long Suffering, Worried Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:28:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28179858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LivingInATimeOf_Myths/pseuds/LivingInATimeOf_Myths
Summary: By (not so popular but I will still take it) demand, here is the first work in my Sir Leon the Long Suffering series.Arthur is soft for Merlin and tries to spoil him. Merlin thinks his husband is ridiculous. Leon is long suffering. That's it, that's the fic.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: Sir Leon the Long Suffering [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2064387
Comments: 12
Kudos: 184





	Leon The Long Suffering-Tales of an Iron Kettle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sunfall_of_Ennien](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunfall_of_Ennien/gifts).



> A lot lighter than what I usually write, but hopefully just as much fun! Gifted to Sunfall_of_Ennien, who is so generous and kind with friendship, artwork, and care. <3 Thank you for all you do! It's very silly, but I think it's fun.
> 
> Oh! For context: I headcanon that iron touching magical flesh causes pain. Enjoy!

Leon sighed, dropping his head into his hands. He was not paid enough to deal with this nonsense.

“Arthur.” Merlin said, face scrunched up into what Leon liked to call his _‘Arthur, stop being a fool’_ face.

“Merlin.” Arthur replied, surreptitiously tugging a dented iron kettle behind his back.

Leon sighed. 

“Arthur,” Merlin warned, “do not get rid of that.”

Arthur looked back defiantly, a little abashed but still holding firm.

Leon shook his head. 

“It _hurts_ you, Merlin.” Arthur argued, fingers clenching tighter on his prize, making the metal squeak at the hinges.

  
  


“It’s a _kettle_ , Arthur.” The warlock began circling the king, who watched him warily from where he stood in front of the fireplace. Arthur brought the kettle to his chest, held it tightly and glared at it as if he could make it burst into flames.

“An _iron_ kettle!” Arthur waved one freed hand around.

Merlin looked at Leon in disbelief. The knight shrugged back helplessly. He’d learned long ago not to get in between their quarrels-lovers spats, really, though Arthur turned the most vibrant shade of pink whenever Gwaine called it that-or risk any number of frightful things. 

The last time he’d tried to interfere, his hair had been turned _purple. A violent, shrieking shade of_ purple. The time before that, Arthur had forced him to attend all of Lord Geoffrey’s seminars on _aqueduct building. There_ _were_ _no aqueducts_ _in_ _Camelot._

Sensing no help from the tall knight next to him, who had an expression of pain on his face, Merlin drew closer to Arthur. 

“I _like_ that kettle, Arthur.”

The king stared at him mulishly, bottom lip hovering dangerously close to a pout. “I’ll get you a new one. A _better_ one.”

Leon groaned. He knew _exactly_ where this was heading. 

“Arthur,” Merlin said, exasperated, “the last time you told me that, you showed up to Gaius’s chambers with six knights carrying a bedframe made of _solid gold,_ and decorated with _rubies arranged in the Pendragon crest!”_

Never let it be said the king was anything other than a possessive man, Leon thought despairingly.

Arthur was definitely pouting now, Leon noted with a faint sense of horror. The man sworn to protect all of Camelot and lead them into a better future was _pouting like a child._ Leon shook his head. 

“Well,” a faint smile played around the king’s lips, “It _did_ get you into my bed, didn’t it?” 

_That_ made Leon straighten up, slotting himself next to Merlin protectively, one hand resting on his sword. He sent a _look_ to Arthur, who rolled his eyes.

“Leon, I’ve been married to Merlin for _two years!_ What do you _think_ we’ve been doing all this time, playing cards and knitting socks?” 

Merlin went bright red, making his husband huff, amused. As fierce as the warlock could be (and as much as they’d done in bed together, a possessive part of Arthur noted with satisfaction), he was still so _shy_ when it came to the more….physical aspects of their relationship.

Leon leaned over to Merlin, murmuring, “If he’s bothering you…”

Now it was Merlin’s turn to roll his eyes. The years had been good to him, filling out his once gawky frame with solid muscle.

It made Arthur’s mouth water every time his delicious husband so much as _stretched,_ thick pads of muscle straining against thin cloth. Leon knew _exactly_ where this line of thought was going, judging by the scowl on his face and the protective way he pushed in front of Merlin.

“I’m _fine, honestly_ , Leon. I’m not a boy anymore.” Merlin scolded the knight, who held firm. Seeing no likelihood of change on _that account,_ Merlin turned to his ridiculous husband.

“Arthur, if I let you take that pot, the one you replace it with better not be one of your _impracticalities_!”

Arthur flushed and opened his mouth, arguing, “When have I _ever_ given you something _impractical?”_

A list of gifts and tokens Arthur had made Leon deliver over the years (because the king was _a coward)_ flashed through the knight’s head. Top of the list included a staff as tall as Merlin made of solid gold, with a fist-sized chunk of raw emerald topping it, supposedly to encourage Merlin to practice magic openly (he could be hesitant, in the early days) and a thick coat made entirely of ermine pelts sewed together with _gold thread_. 

Not to mention the truly _horrifying_ set of silk drawers in _Pendragon red_ that had made Merlin shriek when the deeply humiliated Bohrs delivered them. (Arthur, Leon had the distinct pleasure of knowing, had slept in the antechamber for two weeks after that stunt)

Shaking himself out of horrific memories, Leon was aware just in time to see Arthur put the kettle down on the mantle, looking up at Merlin sheepishly and saying softly,

“I just want you to feel safe.”

Leon rolled his eyes, beyond done, as Merlin positively _melted._

Merlin drew close to his husband, pulling him in with thick arms. “Arthur, there’s nowhere in the world I feel safer than with you.”

_Ugh._ Leon shivered, disgusted. He turned on his heel before the inevitable happened and the two lovebirds forgot he was here- _again._ He had no need for a repeat showing of the _last time_ they’d forgotten.

“Leon, wait!” The knight turned around, cursing his luck, and looked up to see Arthur, struggling back into a shirt Merlin had apparently divested him of in the two seconds Leon had not been watching. 

Itching to escape, looking longingly at the door, Leon’s shoulders dropped, and accepted the reality with a sense of resignation. “Yes, milord?”

Arthur grinned at him, flushed from activities Leon would _really rather not see,_ and pushed Merlin behind him, who looked embarrassed (Leon was right-they _had forgotten_ he was there), asking pleadingly, “Will you-will you tell the council Merlin and I were-um-otherwise engaged?”

Ignoring the way Arthur pressed into Merlin behind him and the gasp that elicited from the warlock, Leon nodded rapidly, fleeing for all he was worth.

Outside the chamber doors, he strode to the guards on duty, clapping them each on the shoulder and wishing them luck. 

Best wishes, indeed. He needed a drink.

**Author's Note:**

> I love these idiots. And I love all of you! I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
